


Empathy Lesson

by MaramMarks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cool, M/M, black lion keith, blue lion allura, im sad about it too, klance, no shiro, red lion lance, sorry he gone, well get through this together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9645590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaramMarks/pseuds/MaramMarks
Summary: She sent him something else, then. Something stronger: "I don't belong here."Lance jolted up in his seat, a chill shooting down his spine. Keith's voice had been crystal clear, but it had come from inside his head. "Whoa. Okay . . . that was freaky."--In which Lance can't help but resent Keith for all the changes going on within Voltron lately, and Red can't miss an opportunity to school her new paladin on the emotional complexities of his new leader. Hey, even lions have their 'ships.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first Voltron fic (and the first thing I'm posting in awhile!) so I really hope you guys like it. Feedback is always, always appreciated :)

 

Lance never asked for any of this.

And really, who decided  _Keith_ would make the best leader? Shiro?

And Allura. And Hunk. And even Pidge, damn it. 

"All I'm saying is that, out of all of us, Keith is probably the most fit to lead," Hunk had defended, having gone full Benedict Arnold on his closest friend. "He's the best pilot, he's got a lot more experience--he found the blue lion in the first place, remember? He clearly has some super-strong connection with the forces of magical awesomeness that fuel Voltron, right? I mean look at his bond with Red, it's the most intense we've seen."

"Why not Allura?" Lance countered. "She's basically our leader, anyway."

"It's not so simple, Lance," Allura tried to explain. "Shiro made it very clear to me, Keith,  _and to his lion_ that he'd chosen a successor. The lions don't yield to just anyone; the paladin must be the right fit."

Oh, cruel irony. 

"Besides, my main responsibility needs to be  _here,_ flying the castle. Think of me as . . . backup. I'll come when I'm needed."

So Keith was the new black paladin. Sweet. Cool. All right. Lance was fine with that. It wasn't like there weren't enough items on the list of things Keith had surpassed him in already. Might as well tack "leader of Voltron" up there as well. 

Black warmed to Keith instantly. The second they entered the hangar, Keith still dressed in his red uniform--and Lance was forced to wonder if that was his own little act of rebellion, if Keith hated the idea of leadership just as ferociously as Lance hated him having it--the black lion came to life, opening her jaw wide for Keith to go and take his place as her new pilot. What they hadn't been anticipated was the red lion rejecting the Princess Allura.

"C'mon, Red," Keith had pleaded. "You _know_ Allura. She's just taking care of you for a little while. Just until we find Shiro."

But the lion was just as stubborn as her former paladin. Her eyes remained black, her body completely still. 

"I guess it makes sense," Pidge mused, pushing her glasses back up her nose. "I mean, the red lion is the most temperamental." 

It was only as they were walking back to the bridge, after Lance had crossed the threshold into the hallway and Allura was alone in the room that the blue lion came to life as she passed, moving her head down towards the princess in a sign of obvious respect and approval. 

"Huh," Lance had said. "I guess Blue likes you, princess."

And he hadn't thought, hadn't _considered,_ anyone would dare make the suggestion, to separate a paladin from _his_ lion. It wasn't until later that Keith approached him, and Lance's dormant hatred for that mullet-headed bastard was reborn. 

"Please, Lance," he had pleaded when they were alone, with such pure desperation Lance felt a twist in his gut. He wanted to punch Keith, to tackle him to the ground, to strangle him for even suggestinghe give up Blue. But still, there was something in those dark eyes, something so hopeless and raw it made his heart break. "We need five pilots and we  _need_ all five lions. Red won't open up for Allura but for you . . . I think you could handle it. I think you're the  _only_ one who could handle it." 

Lance tossed and turned all night, praying Keith was wrong about the red lion accepting him, that she would stubbornly refuse anyone but Keith, that things would magically go back to normal. But he knew, deep down he knew, piloting Red was the logical conclusion. Blue was calmer, more kind--like Lance himself--she would accept Allura without issue. And for some reason, despite knowing it made no sense, Lance  _did_ get the feeling he could forge a connection with the red lion. Instinct? Sure, he had good instincts. But he wasn't a hotheaded moron like Keith, he didn't just _charge_ into dangerous situations--Lance was calculated. Lance thought things through. Lance loved the blue lion.

Why did he have to give that up?

Sure enough, the next morning, Keith persuaded Red to let Lance in, and Lance felt a fire in his gut so strong, he thought maybe it  _did_ make sense after all, him and Red. 

"Hey, buddy," he cooed, stroking the edge of Blue's chin. "This is Allura. She's gonna fly you for awhile." 

And that was how the distance began. Whatever relationship he and Keith had forged over their months spent together at the castle was gone, shattered the moment Keith dared to propose Lance sacrificing the blue lion. Would he have done something else in Keith's shoes? Hard to say, but that didn't stop him from hating everything about the situation, from blaming Keith for it all, even for Shiro disappearing. Keith, perfect Keith, who got to lead Voltron and control all the lions and had the gall to act as the head of them all, to control their actions. Lance found being an arm was far different from being a leg, and he didn't  _like_ that difference. He wasn't the support anymore, he was the aggressor. He held the sword, he led the attacks.  _Keith's_ attacks. 

Because Voltron had become synonymous with Keith, now. Keith as the leader, Keith as the head. Lance couldn't separate the two in his mind. And he hated them both, now. Voltron, for changing and Keith for representing that change. For taking away his lion. For being better than him in  _every possible way._

"I need you to do this, Lance," he had said. "We all need you to do this."

 _Fuck you,_ Lance thought back. But what he did was nod and accept his duty to the team. To Shiro.

It wasn't all Lance, though. Resentment can only go so far. Keith, himself, had changed. If he had been isolated from the others before, leadership increased the condition tenfold. He hardly bothered to come and sit with them at dinner anymore, never mind carry out a conversation outside a training session. He had pulled away from them completely, spent all his time in his room, sulking or plotting or whatever it was that he did. He walked the halls silently. He led the training exercises silently. He listened to Pidge's theories on Shiro's location silently. He gave his input on the castle's next course of action succinctly, and retreated back into his damned silence. 

"Let's have a bonding day," Allura pleaded with him one morning. "We've been training as Voltron every day since I joined you all, but I feel as though I've had no time to really  _connect_ with the blue lion. I'm sure Lance is feeling the same."

With Keith's gaze shifted to him, Lance instinctively looked away. He couldn't stand to meet Keith's eyes anymore. "I guess." 

"Fine," Keith agreed. Lance had almost forgotten the sound of his voice--how deep it was. "Bonding time. Everyone report back here in two hours."

Hunk and Pidge, the only two members who were  _not_ dealing with new lions, elected to stay behind and work on a plan for finding Shiro. Keith nodded in agreement, then stalked away. As he approached the black lion, Lance wondered if Black was resisting him at all, the way the red lion had at first. If she knew he wasn't meant to be the leader. 

Or if Keith didn't even  _need_ a bonding day, and he was just humoring them. Maybe piloting Black came just as easily to him as everything else in life. 

As he settled into his new seat inside the red lion, Lance reminded himself it wasn't her fault any of this was happening. She was as much of a victim as he was. So, as they were flying away from the castle, and intentionally in the  _opposite_ direction as Keith, he patted the dashboard fondly and said, "I'm sorry about all this."

She purred in response, the same way Blue always did. It wasn't something he could  _hear,_ but rather something he felt inside of him. It was the first time she'd communicated with him at all since he'd adopted the role as red paladin--he had almost forgotten what it felt like, bonding with the lions. 

"Hey, there you are." He couldn't help but smile. "Sorry I haven't been the best paladin for you, lately. No offense, but I've been missing Blue."

She sent him a wave of understanding. He paused then, thinking. The next words came with difficulty and left a sour taste in his mouth; "I bet you miss Keith, too, huh?"

He was hit by a wave of profound grief, the grief of a lion longing for her paladin. But there was something else there, too, something for Lance. An acceptance, perhaps. Red's way of telling him she understood why he had to be there. He hadn't realized it before, but Keith's connection with Red truly did run deep. He wondered if he was missing Red just as much as Lance was missing Blue . . .

No. No sympathy here. Lance didn't have the time for it, not when it came to Keith. 

Red sent him a feeling that wasn't his--but it wasn't hers, either. It was something residual, from before he sat at her controls. A feeling of being very . . . alone. Lance pondered this.

"I guess you're sort of the outcast, huh?" he asked. "I mean, of the lions. You're the smallest, for one thing. And the fastest. That sets you apart."

He felt Red's agreement surge through him. She felt like a severed limb, an arm that didn't quite fit back into place when the five became one.

"They need us, you know," Lance tried to comfort her, not that she really needed comforting. Whatever isolation she felt, it ran deep. She seemed almost at peace with it, he could tell. She wasn't looking to have her opinion changed. Maybe it wasn't Red who felt isolated. Maybe it was her paladins. 

She sent him something else, then. Something stronger:  _I don't belong here._

Lance jolted up in his seat, a chill shooting down his spine. Keith's voice had been crystal clear, but it had come from  _inside_ his head. "Whoa. Okay . . . that was freaky."

_They only keep me around because of Shiro. I'm not really a part of this team._

_I'm not one of them. I'm not even human._

_I'm filth. Leaving Earth couldn't change that._

_I shouldn't be there. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you, Red._

_Shiro wants me to lead._

They kept coming, the words--but not words, exactly. More like emotions, surging through Lance's mind even though they were not his own. He realized Red was trying to show him something; she was sending him memories. Keith, but from her point of view. Everything he'd ever confided in her through their bond. 

Lance thought about all the conversations he'd had with Blue, and icy guilt spread over his gut. He wasn't supposed to be hearing  _any_ of this. This was personal, this was intimate. He was intruding.

But he didn't tell Red to stop. 

_Lance hates me._

_They all hate me, probably. I'm not good at talking._

_But Lance hated me before he even knew me._

Ouch. Okay . . . maybe Lance was a little rough on Keith, sometimes. But even he had to admit to himself that it wasn't  _hatred_ he felt, not real hatred anyway. Resentment . . . rivalry . . . jealousy, even. Hate was such a strong word, when one put it that way . . . 

_Pidge just wants to find her family. Why'd I lash out? I want the same thing . . ._

_I don't know where I came from. I walked away from figuring it all out. How am I supposed to know who I am if I don't know where I started?_

Red sent that message along with a visual. Suddenly, and only for a moment, Lance wasn't staring out into the deep expanse of space. He saw a black-haired toddler standing at a window, staring out into the desert. Alone. Was that Keith?

_Shiro is the reason I'm here._

Lance got more snapshots mixed with feelings--the inside of a car, the familiarity with feeling out of place, the knowledge that  _this isn't going to work out, none of them ever work out,_ the sun being too bright, new foster parents, a woman's voice saying the neighbors have a son around your age, and a boy's face.

"Is that _Shiro?_ " Lance asked, the slightest trace of a laugh in his voice. Shiro before his scar, Shiro with two arms, Shiro as a kid. 

Then there were rocks, and strong arms catching  _you_ \--but not  _you;_ Keith--from falling, the warmth of a reassuring smile that was becoming more and more well known. Laughter, real genuine, laughter; and for the first time, a desire to stay.

Lance had always known Keith and Shiro knew each other from before Voltron, but he had never realized it was like this. 

Red didn't pause to let him recover, she kept the montage going; Keith's feelings of love, admiration, and the discovery of deep-rooted loyalty, a debt that would never be repaid and a bond that could never be broken. 

And then, suddenly, disaster. 

_The Galaxy Garrison mission to the distant moon of Kerberos is missing, and all crew members are believed to be dead._

_No, no, no. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead. He wouldn't do that. They were lying, they were keeping something out. Shiro had told him once,_ the Garrison has their secrets _. This had to be another. This was all some massive conspiracy, something_ had  _happened but Shiro wasn't_ **dead** _. He couldn't be. Keith would have felt it._

Lance found himself back in his own mind for a moment, long enough to consider the real nature of Keith's feelings for Shiro. That is, to consider the difference between fraternal and romantic. 

_I have to do something, I have to go find them. I need more information, there's something they're not telling me. Damn it!_

Iverson's intimidating form looming over him, his trademark look of _you're fucked, insert-student-surname, I caught you red-handed_ plastered across his face. Keith's hands had been hovering over a keyboard, Lance could practically feel the pressure of typing beneath his own fingers. He'd been looking for information on the Kerberos mission-- _stealing,_ information. Lance had never pegged Keith as being good with computers, not the way Pidge and Hunk were. Accurately so, judging by the fact that he got busted. 

 _Huh. So that's how he got kicked out._ Lance had always wondered. 

Abruptly, he was overwhelmed with a feeling of intense anxiety. Part of him was aware he was still inside the red lion, but he was  _there_ and  _elsewhere_ at the same time. The walls were shrinking in, everything felt claustrophobic. He was alone, god. No one would listen. He was homeless, now, too. They weren't _listening._ Something else was going on, something horrible. The world was ending and he was _so alone._  He had to get away. So he ran--Lance, Keith, whoever--he ran back to the openness of the desert, the fresh air in his lungs. And he started searching for something, anything. He could feel it beneath the surface of the Earth, something living, calling to him. Something that needed his help. 

He threw himself into the work. Sleepless nights--not that he noticed--coffee, endless pots of coffee, and food. Fuck, he needed food. Well, absently chewing on raw pasta was enough most days. To keep him going while he thought, because that's what he had to do. He had to  _think,_ had to focus.  _Focus, Keith._ Focus, damn it. Patience yields focus.  _Fuck._

Shiro. He had to find Shiro. And this thing, this voice calling to him in the desert. It would help him find Shiro. 

Some days, he was so absorbed in the work, he didn't even notice he was alone. 

Suddenly Lance was ripped away from the memory. He was _himself_ again. The cockpit was the same as it always had been--white, immaculate, vaguely intimidating with all its levers and buttons of unknown purpose. And outside was . . . well, space kind of always looked the same. 

" _Hostia . . ."_ he muttered quietly, sounding appallingly like his grandmother. Then, thinking of Red, he said, "oh, er. That's Spanish. Do you know Spanish? Everyone in space seems to speak English, which is super weird but, whatever. What I just said is--well, it's church bread, actually, but what it means is--"

Red gave him the magical lion equivalent of  _shut up,_ and Lance realizing it felt surprisingly familiar to the sensation of being bitched out by Keith. "Right. Sorry. So, that was . . . pretty heavy. Lots of deep personal Keith-stuff. Any reason  _why . . .?"_

Although, he had a pretty good idea. Yeah, Keith had lived a rough life. He wasn't such a bad guy, actually, and Lance needed to lay off. Message: recieved. 

But when he felt the slight tingling sensation in the back of his mind that let him know Red was about to tell him something, he realized she wasn't finished yet. He still had more to see.

"Aw, come on. No more, really I get it," he protested. Red didn't listen. 

This flashback was different from the others. 

* * *

 

If Shiro was their Space Dad, Keith was the space step-son. Bastard half-brother, at best. And he never asked for any of this. 

It alluded him completely why Shiro would choose him _, Keith_  of all people, to inherit the black lion. More than "chose," he'd been insistent. Maybe from Shiro's point of view, Keith was the natural heir. He was the only member of Voltron Shiro had known prior to all the space nonsense . . . and, sure, Keith was more mature than say, _Lance,_ but that didn't necessarily qualify him for a leadership position. But still, Shiro had said it. More than once. And Keith had accepted,  _sort of,_ because he never considered for even a moment that Shiro was going anywhere. Because in Keith's incurably inconsistent life, Shiro had been the one thing that was fixed. Permanent. The year he was gone, Keith felt like he had lost himself . . .

That feeling came flooding back the moment he saw the empty chair. 

He pulled away from the others. Shut himself in his room, locked the door. Unlike the last time, Keith couldn't go storming off into the desert--as endless as space appeared to be, he found it was actually quite claustrophobic when oxygen was a necessary factor in the equation of survival. He considered taking Red and just going, going, going until there was nowhere left to go. Until he flew off the edge of the universe, wherever that may be, and ceased to exist entirely.

Drawbacks to that plan: a) Red would have to cease with him, and b) the team would never let him get away with it. Pricks. 

After the first day of isolation, Hunk began leaving food outside his door. Or at least, he said he was doing that. Keith never actually checked. On the third day, when he heard a knock, he assumed it was the resident chef bringing him supper and without getting out of bed he announced, "it's just a waste at this point," in reference to the food. 

"What?" Lance's voice came through the door, and Keith's brow creased. Not what he had been expecting. 

"Sorry," he called back. "Figured you were Hunk."

"Oh. Yeah, dude, you've got like--eight plates of uneaten goo out here. It's kinda nasty." 

Instead of responding, Keith rolled over to his side so he'd be facing the wall. 

"So, anyway," Lance went on. "We all miss you." 

It sounded just as forced and uncomfortable as the delivery had felt, and on the other side of the door, Lance winced. If Keith had been capable, he might have laughed. He knew where he stood on the team. Shiro was the link between him and the rest of them; the only thing connecting the Garrison Squad to the Crazy Desert Kid. Allura and Coran fit in naturally with the others, Keith knew; they had slid into the group dynamic with poise and grace which was as alien to human teenagers as the Alteans themselves. But then again, Keith was an alien, too.

Out in space, they all were. 

"And we kind of need to figure out what our next move is," Lance went on, the vaguest trace of annoyance in his voice. "I mean, if we're going to find Shiro--which I assume we're planning on doing--we're going to need Voltron. And since we kind of need Shiro to  _make_ Voltron, that's sort of a problem. Allura won't even talk about replacing him unless the whole team is there, which I respect, I guess. It makes sense. We all deserve a say. But it's a huge bummer, sure, and I know it's the last thing anyone wants to think about right now, but it's something we at least have to _discuss_ and--And I mean. Well. Damn it, Keith. Everyone's sad too, okay? We need each other right now. And you're being pretty selfish by not coming out."

Lance was so busy rambling, he didn't hear movement inside. Less than a second after he ran out of words to say, the door slid open and he found himself face-to-face with Keith who looked--well, tired. Keith was thinking the same thing about Lance. 

"Let's go, then," he said, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

"What?"

"Let's go talk about this." And with that, Keith started towards the bridge. 

* * *

 

"How did you  _know_ that? The other stuff I get, those were Keith's memories, but that . . . that was just a few days ago. Keith hasn't piloted you since then and . . . ah, jeez." For once, Lance found he'd run out of words to ramble on with. Was her connection with Keith  _that_ strong? To the point where she could see into his mind even when they were apart. But, he realized, they already knew that. Red had come to Keith's aid more than once. She could feel his pain, physical as well as emotional. And she wasn't just  _showing_ Lance, she was asking him a question.

Okay. For real this time. Message: received.

"I think I get it, girl," he said to Red, patting his armrest affectionately. "And I'm sorry . . . I've been kind of a dick."

He laughed aloud at Red's response. "Ha, yeah. Keith's been a dick too. But I guess he's kind of going through a lot right now, huh?"

_Mmm._

"I mean, he basically  _just found out_ he's actually an alien--and he still doesn't have any real information about that! Like,  _how_ alien is he? And did he ever know his real parents? Were they not like, his  _real_ parents, then? That's gotta be super confusing. I never even considered he'd have beef about that. I mean, granted, it's  _Keith,_ he somehow manages to act like nothing bothers him but also  _everything bothers him._ He's so weird. And Jesus, I guess he kind of  _just_ got Shiro back again after spending a year looking for him. That's gotta be rough, too. He just . . . he never  _says_ anything about it! He . . . he's quiet.

"Maybe I'm just kinda pissed he's been shutting me out. Er, shutting us all out, I mean."

Red sent him the telepathic version a smirk. Lance felt himself blushing. "Shut up!"

A thought occurred to him then, and he felt his stomach turn. "Hey, can the lions communicate with each other? I mean, do you guys like,  _gossip_ or anything? Because there's some stuff I told Blue in confidence and if Keith finds out--"

Red opened up a display panel on the dash, showing the time.  _Quiznak,_ three hours had passed already? Keith had said to check in after two. Why hadn't anyone tried using the coms to call him back yet? Or maybe they had and he just wasn't getting the messages . . .

"All right, girl, let's get back. God, I don't even know how far out we are . . . _Holy--_ "

Until then, Lance hadn't witnessed what everyone meant when they said the red lion was the fastest.

* * *

 

"Lance! Where the hell've you been?!"

"Hey, man, I gotta talk to you--"

"The others are all out looking for you right now! Why weren't you answering the coms?!"

"It was an accident, I just--"

"We thought you'd run into Galra; you could have been dead!"

"I know, I'm sorry--"

"--we were worried sick! What's  _wrong_ with y--"

"Keith!" 

Keith had been charging Lance from across the hangar the moment he and Red had landed, face scarlet and eyes fuming. Lance had started a march forward as well, in his attempts to calm their raging leader. They stood only a foot apart, Keith's arms crossed and his brow creased. Coran was cowering in the doorway.

" _What?_ " Keith asked, actively decreasing his volume but still managing to sound just as pissed. 

Lance took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I was gone so long. I didn't mean to be--Red and I must have flown into a no service area or something."

Keith rubbed at his eyes. "All right. Whatever. Coran, can you call everyone else back? Tell them Lance is fine."

"Right-o!" Coran exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically, and fled from the growing tension in the hangar. 

Keith started to walk back, too, but Lance grabbed his arm. "Hey."

"What?"

"I just . . . there's something I have to tell you."

Keith turned back to face him. Lance forced himself to meet eyes. "What is it?"

"Well . . . Red and I were talking--kind of--and she told me some stuff. About you."

Keith's face instantly matched his armor. "What?! What did she--"

Lance threw his arms up in surrender. "Whoa--hey, no, dude, it's fine. She just showed me like, what you're dealing with lately and stuff. With Shiro being gone and having to be the leader and everything." 

"She . . . oh," his complexion was slowly returning to normal. "It's whatever. I'm sure its no harder on me than the rest of the team--"

"No, but Keith . . ."

"What?"

"I--it's just. Ugh. Fuck it." Lance threw his arms around his valiant leader and squeezed. 

And Keith . . . didn't move. "Uh, Lance?"

"Hug me back, idiot."

So he did.

After what could have been days, they finally separated. Lance wiped his mouth on his sleeve for no particular reason other than that he needed something to do. Keith just stared at him, not even showing the decency to act slightly cool about the whole thing. "You just . . ."

"Shut up," Lance snapped, rolling his eyes. "You act like you've never gotten a hug before--oh,  _shit,_ have you never gotten a hug before? Damn it, I'm sorry, I didn't--"

"Thank you."

"What?"

Lance was amazed at the speed at which Keith could change color. Once again, his cheeks became immediately flushed. "Nothing!"

"You said 'thank you.'"

"No, I didn't--"

"Yes, you did! You totally just  _thanked me_ for hugging you!" 

Keith turned back towards the door to hide his face. "You're infuriating!"

"And you're adorable."

_Shit! Did I just say that out loud?_

Keith froze. The little strip of skin visible to Lance on the back of his neck was now equal in hue to a tomato. 

_Okay Lance, no going back from that one. Just play it out._

And by  _play it out,_ he meant stand there in complete silence until Keith said something. Which eventually, he would have to . . . right? It dawned on Lance then that Keith was  _absolutely_ the type of person to just walk away from any form of confrontation, flirty comments included. 

But he didn't. He just stood there, with his back turned. And eventually . . . "I'm hungry."

"What?"

"I'm hungry. I spent the whole day flying around and then looking for you . . . I want food."

"Oh. Yeah. I could go for food."

"Hunk will be back soon."

"We could just ask Coran. Or wait inside."

"Uh, yeah. Wait inside sounds good."

"Right." 

Keith started to take a step forward, without looking back. Deciding to test his luck, Lance rushed forward to match his pace and casually laced his fingers through the other boys'. Now they were both blushing, but they walked the rest of the way to the bridge without breaking apart.

Because for once, Keith Kogane decided not to pull away. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Update 2/16: fixed a typo that was BURNING MY EYES and have since uploaded a second fic without all the angst! so if that was too much for you, take a breather, have a facial. Bioré: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9708827  
> thank you guys for reading and the kudos/reviews! it means a lot ily <3


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